Not Your Ordinary Freaky Math Girl
by take the mic. sing to me
Summary: I thought it was a cliché. But apparently, nobody else did. [Gabriella's diary during the movie.]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Gabriella, being a braniac and all, has a private website that she uses as a weblog. Read and review, please! Oh, and please don't steal my idea. (: I wrote this all in four hours, and a sequel's coming up!

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_**Sunday, January 1, 2006**_

Remember when I said that winter vacation was unlikely to be… out-of-the-ordinary?

Wow, was I wrong.

Lemme explain. My mom forced me—yeah, literally—to go to a "young adults" New Years' Eve party, instead of educating myself on the tragedies that plague many American youths and expanding my vocabulary by reading a book called _Burnt Orange _by Melody Carlson. Eek… I swear. I'm never drinking an alcoholic beverage. Like… ever.

Anyway, before I go on rambling about suicide and cutting and all that crap… I sang. In public. On karaoke. This is a big deal for me, because I'm not exactly the most outgoing person in the world… heh. I wish I'd gotten up the guts to sing the first verse with Troy—yes, I met someone, too! This year keeps getting stranger and stranger—but at least I sang the second one before he walked offstage.

It was so much fun… wow. I mean, I've sung before—in church choir, actually… but as you know, that didn't work out too well for me.

And since Troy didn't know how much of a geek I am, he actually gave me a chance—and we talked after we sang. I have his picture on my cell phone—he gave me his number.

Holy crap. He's so freakin' adorable.

Too bad I chickened out at the last moment when they set the fireworks off—we kept on glancing at each other, turning away when our eyes met…typical romantic-chick-flick fluff—and ran away, literally… using my lame excuse: "I really should go and wish my mom a happy new year."

I think I heard him still talking to me while I was leaving.

_**Tuesday, January 10, 2006**_

Maybe this whole moving thing isn't such a bad thing. I mean… my mom got transferred to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and it's really nice there. Pretty nice people…

_Cute_ and nice people. Mm-hm. _Troy Bolton_, of all people, was there. (Yes, I found out his last name. So…I win.) And this girl… who I guess likes him. Sharpay Evans. She's a lefty, and kinda writes in a graffiti style. She signed up for the winter musical… and took up most of the paper. I kinda want to audition… but I'm new here, and even though I'm pretty sure I can catch up and get familiar with the curriculum in time… I dunno. I'm a chicken, I guess. A dorky, freaky, algebra-liking chicken…?

Wow. "My brother and I have starred in all the school's productions, and we really welcome newcomers. There are a lot of supporting roles on the show. I'm sure we could find something for you."

Her voice is kinda annoying when you replay it over and over again in your mind. I think I'm going mad.

And… out of all those "school productions"—it's a _musical_, not an Oscar nominee!—surely one of them involved romance of some sort? I hope during kissing scenes they had substitutes for one of them. Because… wow. I'm getting nauseated just thinking about it.

_LATER_

Yes. I got you onto my cell phone, which also has a teeny-tiny little keypad. So as long as Ms. Darbus is busy, I can blog away about… you-know-who. I sit in the back of the classroom, and he sits at the front, so I'm free to stare at him and then just pretend that I'm looking at the teacher. His hair is so nice, and his eyes are perfect. He's not too muscular, but just right. It makes me want to kiss him and slap him at the same time, and yell, "Why do you have to be so perfect?"… or, better yet, yell that in his face, make him realize how cute I am when I'm angry (if I am…?), and then he'll kiss me, in front of Sharpay's face, and then we'll have beautiful, multi-talented children and live in a solar-powered house

_EVEN LATER—DETENTION_

Crud. Ms. Darbus caught me. Luckily I have you so ingeniously passworded, if I do say so myself, and I was able to close everything quickly. Now I'm in detention, and I've been trying to exercise self-control, which is apparently non-existent when I'm in the presence of Troy Bolton's undeniable hotness.

I don't think I've ever felt this way before—but now that he knows that I'm the freaky math girl, the only kisses I'll be getting from him are the ones from my pillow (secretly named after him—yes, call me obsessed, but I've never dated, kissed, or liked anyone, so… go sing something).

Oh, and I don't think Sharpay Evans likes me very much. Ha, what else is new? I mean, at every school I've gone to, at least one pretty, some-other-good-adjective girl has hated me intensely for no apparent/legitimate reason. Yikes.

Taylor McKessie, the president of the science club, has seen "proof" of my smart-ness and wants me to join East High's scholastic decathlon team. I don't know… I'd like to do that, I guess, but only if it doesn't get in the way of auditioning for the musical… but then again, if Troy's not interested in leading a "double life" and just wants to keep shooting hoops, that might complicate things…

…oh, crap. Someone just shoot me. All of these obsessive fantasies, all to be crushed down by that one big possibility—Troy might not want to sing anymore… or ever. Especially with me. I mean, if he wanted to sing, he could just pick Sharpay or something.

I am so stupid.

Eek. Troy's dad, Coach Bolton, just walked in on Ms. Darbus's speech about how horrible cell phones are. Troy and Chad were in a tree… it was a prop for the drama club, though. I kinda wish I could've joined them. I mean… it was probably more fun than standing behind a half-moon and painting the back of it. I mean… who looks at the _back_? The front was already done, anyway… psssh. I get kinda worried… what if Ms. Darbus hires illegal aliens to paint props for her drama club sets during break and/or weekends? I mean, how else would they have gotten painted?...

…seriously.

_**Wednesday, January 11, 2006**_

Wow, have I morphed into some freakish… miniskirt-wearing, skin-showing, Botox-using… thing? Because I giggled. For no reason. At Troy. Wow. I've kinda been wanting to do that for awhile, but… I dunno. I had really bad timing, I guess. But he smiled at me kinda weird. His cheeks looked abnormally chubby. Eek.

I've never had a guy smile at me like that before… kinda fake-ly but kinda real-ly.

Could he possibly…?

Nah, never mind. Forget it. But not the delete-yourself-because-you're-a-mutant-file-on-my-cell-phone kind.

_**Thursday, January 12, 2006**_

I sneaked (not "snuck"—don't make me beat you in the name of grammar) into the theatre to see the Evans twins audition—y'know, to see how good they really are… and Troy was there, hiding behind a mop…

…Sharpay's face is kind of like a dog's. That's not nice. Forget it… not literally, though…?

There were singles auditions, and they were… horrible. Even though the weird kids who were all, "Couldn't see" were pretty funny. They made me and Troy sink into our seats though, which was kind of nice of them, even though I didn't know them. We were so close to each other that I could feel his warmth and smell his spray… it was really nice. Perfect for a kiss, actually…

...heh.

Sharpay and Ryan are pretty good. Even though it was… different, but they were good. Ms. Darbus apparently liked them.

I don't know what got into me. I was all, "I'd like to audition, Ms. Darbus!" right when Troy was like, "We should… uh… go…"

And then Ms. Darbus goes, "blah, blah, blah… and there are simply no other pairs. Free period is now over."

Her outfits are hideous. Only she could get away with wearing those. Mmf. That wasn't nice, either. I'm in a rather not-nice mood.

Then Troy goes, "I'll sing with her," rubbing the back of his neck all cutely, like he does when… uh, I dunno. I've known the guy for less than a week.

But that sweet act of… hotness was all ruined because I don't think Ms. Darbus and Coach Bolton like each other very much, and, well… we were turned down. Yay! "We!"

Ahem. Okay…

Anyway. Kelsi Neilson, a pianist who's about as shy, if not shyer, as I am, slipped—it was pretty fake, actually. Pssh. She better not want Troy. xP Just kidding… I, um. Think…?

Back to Kelsi—she fell, and dropped her papers everywhere. Troy and I went and helped her like the good little Brownies we were (I never was a Brownie. Are they for boys and girls…?). We end up singing a slower (and not as catchy, I must admit) version of _What I've Been Looking For_, the song that they used for the auditions—Kelsi wrote it, and we're all smiling for no apparent reason, and then Ms. Darbus goes, "Bolton, Montez—you have a callback."

And I'm guessing this is a good thing, since Kelsi gets all excited and gives me sheet music. Pretty, romantic song. _Breaking Free_, it's called. I can't imagine Sharpay and Ryan singing this to each other. I just can't. I'm shuddering… right now.

_**Friday, January 13, 2006**_

I don't think that Troy's basketball friends are very happy about the fact that we got a callback. Lunch was chaos, and I ended up slipping on milk—what happened to janitors and maintenance men, not to mention common courtesy?—and dropping cheese fries all over Sharpay, who got Troy into trouble, I think, by lying to Ms. Darbus and making her yell at Troy's dad.

Can you say, "Yikes!"

I can. Wow. And I think I saw Ryan eat them. The cheese fries. I know I don't know Ryan well enough to judge him, but lately he's been acting kind of gay.

That was kind of made up for when Troy sent me a romantic—fine, I made that part up—note, inviting me to some "secret" hiding spot, "courtesy of the science club," he said. Usually when some guy says something like this, it meant he was making some sleazy attempt to impress me, but Troy has a way of making everything sound cute… maybe because it is. I don't know what makes me love him so much.

I think I know what. I can tell him anything—anything—and he totally understands and accepts me. Now, if I were a normal girl who actually HAD friends back where she came from, I'd say that I was more comfortable with him and told him more stuff than my friends back home. But… I can't. But if I did have friends, I'd probably still tell him more stuff.

And, you know. If he doesn't like me the way I like…_love_ him, then… I guess I'll be okay with that. Because at least I'll have a great best friend…a best guy friend, since Taylor considers me her girl best friend… how, I don't know since I haven't talked to her much. But it's still really nice of her.

I can't believe I ended up using that corny analogy about me in kindergarten—truth is, I hardly had friends in kindergarten—I had to dodge flicked boogers from haters because I hardly spent class time with the class… playing dress-up and cooking with bacteria-covered plastic. Instead I was taking advanced classes for third-graders, explaining why I'm celebrating my sixteenth birthday in June.

But then again, the analogy thing might've worked, because I'm sure Troy had friends in kindergarten.

Good thing is, Troy wants to do the callbacks. Which is really cool of him. Another reason why I love him to death.

Weird. Because we have almost no chance of winning. Our friends don't want us to win, because they think it'll detract from our focus on our respective activities, "where we belong," and our parents don't know—I think Mami will be okay with it, but Coach Bolton?—eek. Plus, Sharpay and Ryan weren't kidding when Sharpay said that they've been in seventeen "school productions" to Kelsi. They've probably been working at this their whole lives…

…but then again. If we do get the leads, chances are, I'll get to kiss Troy… even though he's not acting as himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Revised August 22, 2007. I added Jason's last name, and the fact that Kelsi's basket made it. Thanks for the corrections! (:

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_**Monday, January 16, 2006**_

Fine… so I ended up not telling my mom about the whole callbacks-with-Troy thing…yet. I mean, I just couldn't. She was all high and happy about the scholastic decathlon thing, and Taylor asking me to join it so I could officially be one of their braniac brethren (seriously, she said "You could be our answered prayer," then ruined it with some nailbeds line after I asked about Troy). Mami's always telling her coworkers and my relatives—especially the old folks… they just can't get enough of dorky, boyfriend-less, award-winning "Einsteinettes" like me. I couldn't just bring her down like that. What kind of a daughter would I be?

…a lying one. Well, actually, that's what I am now. I'm not entirely sure what kind of daughter I'd be if I did tell her. I don't know. I'm not a very confrontational person, as you can probably already tell.

I'm such a freakish idiot, carrying around the sheet music for _Breaking Free_… into a bathroom. And then singing in it. And then hiding behind a wall while Sharpay comes in and stares at her face, kicking open bathroom stalls. I still don't get why she didn't see me. Maybe I'm like… that girl. In _Fantastic Four_. Jessica Alba. Who was, like… invisible and stuff...

I volunteered to help out with drama…stuff after school. Just to let Ms. Darbus know that I'm not some juvenile delinquent who goes around, answering her cell phone only in her class or something… even though it only happened once, and that was Troy's fault.

Troy painted a box while I sewed… things for the musical. I mean… a camel, a moon, a ladder, boxes… either Ms. Darbus is a pack rat or this musical (_Twinkle Towne_, I hear it's going to be called) is going to be a disaster. I don't know how I didn't sew my finger to the cloth (they could use the blood-splattered material for some gladiator musical, though—I can imagine how hot Troy would look one of those Roman centurion outfits) since I was smiling and bopping my head with Troy to the tune of _Breaking Free_ the whole time.

He smelled nice today. Again.

Troy then had to leave because he "forgot" about basketball practice—I don't know how one does this, since he's been doing it his whole life—and when he got there, changed and ready, everyone was gone. I know this because I followed him down there about five minutes later, just in time. I made a joke about shooting hoops, space shuttles, and microwave popcorn, then traveled with the basketball (very badly, according to Troy—crud, even his flirty insults sound adorable!) until he lifted me up into the air, making me squeal in pleasure. Then his dad came and ruined it. I don't think he likes me very much… probably on account of the fact that he thinks it's my fault that Troy got detention (Coach Bolton called me Troy's "detention buddy") and that Troy missed practice for the first time ever. This kind of made me happy, since that meant that Troy had never missed practice before for any other girl he might have liked…

…not assuming that he likes me, or anything. Fine, I'll uncross my fingers.

So then I practically ran away. Coach Bolton scares me. Mrs. Bolton must be very pretty, since I don't think Troy got his hotness from his dad.

Speaking of Troy…ha. I'm always talking about him. His arms felt nice around my waist… kind of perfect and warm, but cool and not sweaty and weird or anything. It was… really nice. And I have a weird feeling he might've kissed me if his dad hadn't walked in on us. Not _that_ kind of walked in, though. Ew.

Another reason to dislike his dad intensely.

_LATER_

I wonder if Taylor's mad at me because of the callbacks (pssh, honestly, I don't care that much if it's about that), or if something's wrong at home. She hasn't been talking to me lately like we used to, and always has to run off somewhere. I just hope she's okay.

_**Tuesday, January 17, 2006**_

I feel horrible. I've just been…crying. I'm kind of mad at Taylor and all of the other people on the scholastic decathlon team, but I know that what I saw couldn't possibly have been fake. Nobody made Troy say anything, and I hope that getting his friends off his back was worth it.

Because I'm not trusting anyone again.

_**Wednesday, January 18, 2006**_

Taylor apparently regrets letting me see what Troy had to say and is trying to convince me that it's all her fault… but I'm not buying it. Whatever Troy's paying her can't possibly be worth it, since I'm not listening to her, either.

_LATER_

For some reason, Troy makes it very difficult for me to stay mad at him. Since you can't see me, I'm grinning like an idiot right now at the events that have taken place. He came up to my balcony while talking to me on the phone, being all apologetic… like those people who divorce and want to get married again, leaving their new family of a wife and three babies in the process… God, please help me… we're not even _together_! Anyway, he sings _The Start of Something New_, and ruins it at the end by _saying_ "new," and going, "It's a pairs audition," trying to make me feel guilty.

Needless to say, it worked. So then I smirk at him, unaware of the fact that I'm in my jogging suit—crap, _Troy Bolton saw me in a jogging suit!_—and then take the sheet music from him and we sort of cuddle next to each other on my balcony/porch…thing, until Troy's cell phone rings, and he says it's his dad and that he's all mad that he sneaked out when he was supposed to be doing homework or something.

Another reason to hate Coach Bolton.

However, I'm too happy to hate anyone right now…

I think Troy likes me.

_**Thursday, January 19, 2006**_

Kelsi used a cliché line today. O.o I shouldn't be surprised since she, you know. Writes plays. But she's all, "I think it's two rats, neither of them named 'Darbus.' "

I thought it was a cliché. But apparently, nobody else did.

So then, Troy came up with a plan so we can still sing tomorrow after all three events—the championship game, the scholastic decathlon, and the callbacks—have been rescheduled to the same day and time tomorrow. At least I don't have _three_ reasons to hate his dad…heh. But I might have more than three to hate the twins.

_**Friday, January 20, 2006**_

I think we have everyone (except for our friends—and, heck, the whole school might know, since Chad can't keep a secret) confused. Taylor and I made a Wildcats poster (which looked really cheap compared to the guys' present—a pi pie—even though it was really a cake, that kind of looked like cardboard) and threw little squishy-pillow basketballs at the boys. I think Taylor has a little thing for Chad, which is okay, since maybe then we could all double date.

Oh, no. Shoot me now. Wait, not yet. I need Troy to kiss me first. Passionately.

_LATER_

We won. And then all of a sudden, all the people in our school could sing and dance again, like they did before I dropped fries on Sharpay's chest. The cheerleader was all, "All right, here we go!" and I would've gotten really annoyed… except I was too high off of victory to. And maybe Troy's spray, which smells really good. Maybe I could find out what it is, and buy a little bottle of it using my mom's coupon for Macy's, and then whenever I miss him I can just spray a little piece onto the sheet music, and smell him, right in the comfort of my own home.

Of course, it wouldn't be as good as having the real thing, but, hey. Pretty poetic, right? I think so.

So then Coach Bolton and Ms. Darbus kind of make up some twisted teacher truce on the basketball court with "Bravo!" and "Brava!" and all of that crap… and then Troy and I lean in to kiss each other… passionately, might I add, when Chad comes in and interrupts, and then Taylor does later.

I was ready to shoot both of them.

"CHAD JUST ASKED ME OUT!"

Well, go and make out with him, then, instead of interrupting us!

Good thing I didn't have my oddly sharp plastic butter knife with me…

…not kidding. I saved one from that New Years' Eve party… a token of twisted luck. It's lavender. I told Troy this at the after party and he laughed at it like it was the funniest thing ever, then I showed him where it was in my purse. He laughed even harder. No, we weren't underage drinking.

Then I asked him what he did with that game ball… turns out he hated it for "interrupting us," so he gave it to Kelsi, who ended up getting with Jason Cross, one of Troy's basketball buddies… Jason took of Kelsi's hat and then helped her shoot… and the pianist scores!

Anyway, when Troy said "interrupting us," he finally got around to kissing me. Not passionately, because that's kind of… frightening, now that I think about it. We didn't make out, because that's kinda gross. With the whole tongue thing.

And nobody has seen Sharpay or Zeke… ha. We're only noticing this because Zeke was supposed to bring most of the food… him being an awesome cook and all. But what's Sharpay's excuse…?

Oh, and we got Ryan to change into some decent, American clothes... and taught him that 1) there's a difference between everyday clothes and costumes, and, 2) you don't need to feel like you have to complement your sister's outfits all the time.


End file.
